


Pu'uwai Hao Kila

by stellarmeadow



Series: Season 4 Codas/Missing Scenes [22]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Episode Tag, M/M, episode 422
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the biggest obstacles to conquer are internal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pu'uwai Hao Kila

**Author's Note:**

> OMG IT'S DONE! *ahem* Thank you all, so much, for sticking with me through this, for all the lovely, kind words, and the encouragement. I had no idea if I would make it through an entire season when I started this, and I still kind of can't believe I did. I hope that you enjoy the ending and that it is worth all the time you've spent reading it over the past eight months. :) 
> 
> A note about the title: _Pu'uwai Hao Kila_ means heart of steel, courageous.
> 
> Spoilers all over the place from 4.22. You've been warned!
> 
> Oh! And I can't believe I forgot this - HUGE thanks to smudgegirl - without her cheerleading you'd have been waiting a looooot longer for this! :)

Danny dragged his way out of sleep, the fog lifted much more quickly than normal at the desperate sound of his name. He blinked his eyes open, the somewhat familiar heaviness of Steve leaning into him, their bodies pressed together in quite possibly the most uncomfortable sleeping position possible, sitting up on a couch, instantly grounding him.

Right. Steve's. Nightmares.

Danny shifted, his arm sliding out from behind Steve's just enough for Danny to rest his hand on Steve's lower back. "Hey," Danny said, his voice a near whisper, "it's okay. You're home. You're safe."

Nine times out of ten, the words calmed Steve, repeating them putting him back to sleep without him even realizing it. The other time it woke him up.

This was one of the other times.

Steve opened his eyes, and Danny watched as the focus came back, as Steve left whatever battlefield, foreign or Hawaiian, he'd been imagining. "Danny?"

"Yeah." Danny shifted again, pulling his hand out and putting it in his lap, but leaning back into Steve's side to ground him some more, even if that did nothing to help his sudden need to kiss Steve senseless. That sleepy voice got him every time.

"What time is it?"

Danny checked his watch. "Just after four."

Steve stretched, the rub of his body against Danny's also not helping Danny's desire to push him back on the couch. Every night the struggle was harder, but they weren't together, not really. They weren't exactly apart, either. They were trapped in some weird limbo-land of relationship world that Danny didn't know what to do with.

He'd said goodbye to Amber the day after they'd come back from Afghanistan. He hated himself a little for using her, even though he hadn't quite realized that was what he'd been doing, and he'd stopped once he'd faced up to it.

"We should probably stop falling asleep on the couch, huh?" Steve said.

Which meant what, that they should take this to a bed? Or that they should stop falling asleep together at all? Danny's Steve-to-English dictionary seemed broken since they'd returned, and he desperately wanted the update it apparently needed.

He hadn't really spent a lot of time away from Steve since Afghanistan. Every night that Grace was at Rachel's, Danny had spent with Steve. Dinner invariably turned into watching something on TV and falling asleep on the couch until Steve's nightmares woke Danny up.

The nightmares were why he stayed, he told himself, but every time he did, he wanted to smack himself in the face for lying, even in his own head. If it was just the nightmares, he could deal with that from home. He did that effectively enough on the nights he had Grace.

The first night, Steve had texted him after a nightmare. Not that he'd said as much--it was a stupid text about picking him up the next morning--like Danny was going to forget? But Danny had understood the real reason and called the idiot immediately, talking to him until Steve had started snoring into the phone.

Danny absolutely did not listen to that sound for a ridiculous amount of time before falling asleep himself.

"I suspect my lower back would probably agree with you," Danny said, but he made no move to get up.

If he was waiting on Steve to give him some kind of sign as to whether that meant Danny should take Steve to bed or just take himself home, he was an idiot. Which did not stop him from sitting there waiting for a sign.

Apparently he was an idiot.

Steve said nothing, he just picked up the remote and flipped away from the infomercial that had been playing quietly on the TV until he landed on Sportscenter.

Danny barely suppressed a growl. He had a clear image in his head for a moment of turning off the TV and dragging Steve up the stairs, ripping his clothes off along the way.

Only the fact that he didn't know if it would get him rejected stopped him.

He had yet to bring up the subject of Catherine since Steve had told them they'd said goodbye. Too many land mines there, from the chance that Steve had changed his mind and decided to wait for her, to the possibility that it would add to his nightmares. After all, some nights it was her name on Steve's lips when Danny woke.

Apparently, whatever Steve had said, he wasn't entirely sure he and Catherine were over.

It was the only explanation. And Danny got it, he really did. For all that Steve had said goodbye to her, it had been over the phone. And knowing Steve, he probably hadn't really been too clear to her about the goodbye in the first place. Maybe he was waiting until he knew that it was officially over, especially since Danny had sort of made that a condition of them becoming...them.

The guy might be a socially inept idiot at times, but he had a noble streak a million miles wide and deeper than the ocean.

So yeah, Danny wanted to drag the guy upstairs and do a lot of dirty things to his body. But he couldn't.

Steve had to make the first move.

Then again, if he couldn't drag Steve upstairs in part because of Steve's issues, why not deal with the issues?

"So what was the dream this time?" Danny asked.

"Hm?" Steve said, and hey, look at that, Danny's Steve-to-English translator wasn't entirely offline. Apparently it was only on the fritz when it came to their personal relationship. Because that was Steve's 'I totally know what you're talking about but if I pretend I don't, then maybe I can get out of talking about it' version of 'Hm?'

That might work with Catherine, but it wasn't flying here.

"The nightmare you just woke up from," Danny said, done coddling him.

He felt Steve stiffen, felt a draft between them as Steve moved away. Not a lot, just enough that Danny noticed. He was still close enough that Danny felt him shrug.

"Don't remember."

Same tone, and Danny was getting tired of all of this. "You do know this is me you're talking to, right?" Danny said. "So you want to rethink that answer and we'll pretend like you didn't just say that?"

Steve cleared his throat. "The dreams don't make a lot of sense," he said finally, his voice low, darting glances at Danny through his lashes like he might not be able to get through this if he met his eyes completely, but he couldn't stop from making sure Danny was still there. "They go from place to place, every bad situation I've ever come back from eventually shows up over the course of a few nights. But they always come back to Afghanistan. To Hassan's compound, to what was about to--"

He kept his eyes on his hands as he broke off, no more glances up.

Danny refused to let that get to him this time. He'd had long enough to repress. "About to what?"

It was like a switch flipped somewhere in Steve's head. The discomfort and haunted look disappeared, his face going blank, his body straightening, less the tension from before and more some weird version of attention while seated. "I was tied to the chair," Steve said, sounding as if he was reciting a report to one of his superiors. "Hassan's men untied me and forced me to my knees, and I saw the camera was on. I didn't catch what Hassan said--my Pashto's a little rusty--but I got the gist."

Steve's phone rang, and Danny silently cursed. Criminals had the worst timing ever, he thought, as he realized the bank robber they'd been called in to help catch was at it again.

"We have to go," Steve said, standing up and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Danny sighed as he watched Steve run up the stairs, the relief evident in his every muscle. He'd been so close to unlocking at least part of Steve's nightmare and now he's have to go back to square one next time.

If Danny had to shoot this robber, he thought, as he went out to his car to get his spare clothes, he was not even going to feel a little bit sorry.

***

"Steve, you might wanna sit down for this." 

Chin's words made Steve brace as if someone was about to punch him. Like the news could get worse than Wo Fat had escaped? "Why?"

"Wo Fat only had one visitor when he was over there. Guess who it was."

Even if Chin's face hadn't been as clear as a neon sign, Steve didn't need a hint. "My mother."

He didn't need confirmation, either, but Chin nodded nonetheless. "She went to visit him twice in the last month." 

Of course she did. Because she couldn't face Steve, but Wo Fat, sure. No problem. After supposedly being on the run from him for half of Steve's life, apparently he was easier to face than her own son. 

"Wow," Danny said. "I'm gonna sit down, actually."

Danny's touch as he walked by to sit on the couch grounded Steve a little, letting him start thinking again. "Were the visits recorded?" he asked. 

"No," Chin said. "Apparently the sit downs were sanctioned by someone in the DoD, and they were ordered non-monitored visits."

"Let me get this straight," Danny said. "In the year that your mother has disappeared, she decides to go see this nut job instead of her own son. You," he said to Steve, "actually need this couch more than me." He got up. "Why don't you sit down?"

"This is all about Wo Fat's mother's grave in Cambodia," Steve said. It was the only thing that made sense. Why else would she come out of the woodwork and visit Wo Fat? Why would the DoD let her? 

Danny frowned. "Why do you say that?" 

"Two visits in the last month, right on the heels of our trip to Cambodia?" Steve said. "Doris must've found out we went there and discovered the truth. I'm telling you, she must've found out that she killed his mother instead of his father."

"If that's true," Chin said, "maybe Wo Fat escaped to find him." 

Kono pulled them out to show them footage of Wo Fat at a gas station in Colorado, setting a man on fire--and how fucking cold did you need to be to do that when you knew exactly how that felt--just to take his truck. 

He knew that search the police in Colorado were doing would turn up nothing. Danny was right--Wo Fat was long gone from Colorado by now. The only question was who he was going after--Steve, or his mother.

***

It wasn't that Danny didn't admire Steve's ability to compartmentalize. It was truly impressive. But it was eating him up from the inside, and Danny couldn't find a way to crack it.

He'd thought he had that morning, thought maybe he was finally going to get through to the worst of Steve's nightmares. Steve had been open about a lot of his past traumas over the last few years, but most of what he'd endured with the Navy had been 'classified'--as if Danny didn't know that was an excuse to keep shoving it down like it wouldn't ever get to him.

But this morning he'd been just about to find out exactly what had really happened in Afghanistan, and then the call had come in. And since then, Wo Fat's escape, news that Doris had been to visit him when she couldn't even manage a phone call to Steve....

If the guy didn't talk soon he was going to break, and Danny wasn't sure the islands would recover from the fallout.

The only way to get Steve where he needed to be was to push until he was past the point of holding it in. And it had to be relentless, he couldn't just pick a moment. 

Steve hung up the phone, looking less than pleased. "What's up?" Danny asked.

"Wo Fat is still in the wind." 

"Why don't you call your mom?" Danny said, going for the jugular. "Ask her where he is? 

Steve looked at him like he really couldn't believe Danny had just said that. "You realize that hurts me when you say that?"

"Okay. I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry." Well, he did, but not really. It was complicated. "I was literally just trying to be helpful." Which was true. In the long run. "I mean, I know you can't even get in touch with her anyway, she avoids you like crazy."

"Stop being helpful, okay?"

He was getting somewhere. "Okay," Danny said. "Sorry."

"Thank you."

Time to go for another hot spot. "Well, uh, speaking of missing persons, you talk to Catherine at all?"

Steve stared at him for a few seconds. "You being genuine?" 

"Yes," Danny said, and he was. For more reasons than just his campaign to break Steve into talking. 

"Okay. Yes, I have, actually. We texted last night." 

That was news to Danny. It must have been when Danny was showering off the dirt from the dead end leads they'd followed up on their robber. That was the only time Steve had been out of his sight long enough. 

No wonder Steve hadn't complained about Danny breaking the sacred three minute shower rule.

"She has a solid lead on Najib's whereabouts," Steve continued, "and she's headed to the Hindu Kush."

"Doesn't sound like she's coming back anytime soon," Danny said, but if the two of them were texting, then it was clear Steve had hope she'd be back. 

Steve's expression made it clear he was blaming himself for the fact she wasn't coming back soon, though. Like it was his fault Catherine went all Don Quixote on them. "Probably not until she finds that boy." 

"I'm genuinely sorry," Danny said, and he was. Also for a number of reasons. "I know that is tough." 

"Thanks, man." Steve's thanks was genuine, as if he had an idea of all the reasons Danny was sorry, and was feeling a little guilty for some of that, too. Which suited Danny's needs. 

"Yeah, it's tough," Steve continued. "But I get it. Catherine's been in the military half her life. She's doing what she was trained to do. She's not coming home until the job's done."

 _Just like my mother._ Steve didn't say it out loud, but he might as well have. The tone was unmistakable, even if Danny hadn't been able to read him. 

Danny didn't want to push too far just yet, so he let it go. Instead he considered the news that Steve had, in fact, been talking to Catherine since their supposed goodbye. So apparently it hadn't been quite as much of a goodbye as Steve had thought that first night.

That might explain the lack of action on Steve's part. And it only served as a reminder to Danny as to why he had to wait for Steve to make the first move. 

He couldn't do anything about that until Catherine was back, he realized. But in the meantime, he could make Steve deal with his demons. 

Whether Steve liked it or not.

***

That niggling feeling Steve had had all day about Grover had been right. 

Funny how being right didn't give him the satisfaction it usually did when Grover was taking his weapon away even as he apologized. He could've kept his gun, could've stopped Grover, but he knew this wasn't Lou. If he was doing this, and taking orders from the asshole Steve really wanted to shoot, then there could only be limited number of reasons.

And all of them were related to Grover.

Steve knew a little bit about criminals using the people you loved against you. 

"Where is it?" Asshole said.

Where was what? "What are you talking about?" 

Asshole grabbed Steve and dragged him over to the van at gunpoint. Steve fought back the immediate flashes his brain supplied of Afghanistan and Hassan's camp, so real for a second that his left eye blurred and blinked out as if it was swollen. 

"Where's the money?"

He jerked himself back to reality in time to see the van was empty. "I don't know," he said honestly. Not that honesty was going to do him any good with Asshole. It might be true, but that only meant two things: They'd been sent out as decoys, and Grover's family was in serious danger. 

"That money didn't just disappear!" Asshole said, stepping back out of reach, holding his gun firmly on Steve. "Now where is it?" 

"You keep asking me the same question, it's the same answer. I don't know." Logic probably wasn't going to work with this guy, but Steve had nothing else to use to bide his time until someone could get the upper hand. "The last time we saw it, it was in this truck. Now that's the truth." 

"Hey, listen," Danny said, doing his best to pull Asshole's focus as he bought time, Steve knew, "we were briefing SWAT when that money was getting loaded into that van. Novak had plenty of time to do something shady and we wouldn't know about it, all right?"

"You're lying," Asshole said before Danny was even finished, his eyes and his gun still on Steve. Steve didn't like the look in those eyes one bit. "And I'm done asking."

He surged forward and grabbed Steve, his gun pressing into the underside of Steve's jaw. Steve could feel himself slipping a little, everything that happened at Hassan's coming back in a rush, and he fought to ground himself. He couldn't lose it now. Especially not when he'd still not found a chance to tell Danny how he felt. 

He looked over and saw Danny watching, waiting for his opportunity to swoop in and save Steve at the last second, death literally at his neck. 

"One. Two."

A fight broke, and Steve turned to see Grover taking out the guy who'd had him covered. Steve heard a shot, and Asshole fell into him like a sack of heavy flour. Steve wrestled Asshole's gun away, taking out the guy by Kono and the one fighting Danny. He watched for any other targets as Grover took down one more, but that turned out to be it.

"Man, I'm sorry," Grover said. "They got my daughter."

Which Steve had figured was probably the likely scenario, but he'd been hoping Fate might've spared Grover that. He'd also been hoping it would spare Danny the reminder of Grace, but apparently Fate was a fickle bitch. 

What a surprise.

"Who has your daughter?" Kono asked.

"Ian Wright."

"What?" Steve said. He'd been expecting Wright to come after him, not Grover, and certainly not in such a hands-on way. 

"You sure it's him?" Steve asked. 

Grover showed them a picture Ian had sent from Samantha's phone, his smug little face pissing Steve off. "That money," Grover said, "is the only thing keeping my daughter alive!" 

Steve glanced at Danny, but he seemed focused, if a little rough around the edges. The phone rang, and Steve stared at it for a second, then looked at Grover, who was looking like he wanted nothing to do with the phone. 

"That's him," Grover said.

Steve held it out. "Answer it." 

Grover shook his head. "I can't." 

"Lou," Danny said, calm, as if this situation wasn't his worst nightmare, "answer the call. Buy yourself some time, okay? Please?"

Grover took a deep breath and the phone and answered, playing it off like everything was fine. Which didn't work when they discovered far too quickly that Wright was close enough that he could see them. 

Steve watched until Grover was getting too panicked. Steve took the phone out of his hand and put it to his own ear. 

"Ian."

"Commander McGarrett. So nice to hear your voice again."

The kid sounded...weird. Excited. Like he was getting two for one with dragging Steve into this mess, maybe. "Ian, let Samantha go. You want a hostage? Come take me."

The kid had the nerve to laugh, and Steve wanted to strangle the laughter right out of his throat. "That is so gallant of you, but no, thanks, I think I'll stick to my original plan." Because that was going so well. "Besides, she's a lot cuter than you." 

"Ian, listen to me," Steve said, not that he had any hope of getting through to the kid, but he had to try. "The money's gone. It's all over."

"It's over when I have my money," Ian said, the laughter gone now, impatience seeping in. "So I suggest you find it." 

He hung up, and Steve lowered the phone. 

"I called Novak three times, he's not picking up," Chin said. 

"We find Novak," Steve said, "we find that money."

Grover didn't look particularly comforted by the idea, but he didn't look like he was about to freak out, so Steve counted it as a win.

***

Danny stared at the empty van, Novak long gone and the money with him. He watched as Grover reacted, knew only too well the pain that he was feeling. He'd done his job, and now his daughter was paying the price and it felt like there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it. 

Danny had been there, done that, got the fucking t-shirt.

He followed slowly, watching as Grover slumped down against the Camaro, crying the way Danny had been on the inside when it had been Grace in Rick's clutches. Danny sat down slowly beside him and told him about Rick. 

"I remember back then thinking I got two choices now," Danny said. "I can shut down, start mourning my daughter, or I can do anything and everything it took to run over whatever stood in my way to get my daughter back." 

"I can't stop thinking about it," Grover said after a moment. "I can't stop thinking about what she must be going through."

Danny got that. He'd been in this situation with Grace, sure, and then far too many times with his team. With Steve. And with his overactive imagination frequently stuck on the horror channel, he imagined a lot. None of it pretty. "Right now you need to put that on hold," Danny said. "If you wanna see Samantha, you stay focused on ending the son of a bitch."

Grover started nodding, but he needed to be more sure. "You understand?" Danny said.

"Yeah."

Better. "Let's go get this guy. Come on." 

"Yeah," Grover said, stronger now. "Let's go get him."

The team joined them at the cars and they decided to regroup at HQ. Danny took a moment to focus, trying to drive the conversation with Grover, the fact that Steve had nearly had his head shot off right in front of him, and every other distraction out of his mind. A little girl's life was at stake. He could have his post-case freak out later. 

"You okay?" Steve asked.

Danny opened his eyes. "I'm fine."

Steve's eyebrow shot up. "Yeah, you look fine."

"What, you're the only one who can just turn off your emotions?" Danny snapped at him.

"I was trained to--"

"So was I, all right? But that doesn't stop them." Danny fixed Steve with a look. "You shut them off when you need to, and then when it's over, you _deal_ with them, or...well, you know what the or is, you've been not sleeping through it for a while now."

He stalked around to the passenger side of his car and got in, slamming the door for good measure.

***

Steve watched Danny silently half the way back to HQ. He wasn't sure whether he should ask what was wrong or apologize for almost getting shot. He'd just about decided to say nothing when Danny finally barked, "What?" 

"I...." He didn't know what to say. He thought of Danny and Grover sitting by the car, Grover's emotions on his sleeve, Danny talking about what happened with Grace just to help him out. To let him know he understood. "It's so easy for everyone else," Steve said finally, working through it out loud. "You just...talk." He glanced at Danny then put his eyes back on the road. "I don't know how to do that. It's not what I was trained to do." 

He can feel a little of Danny's anger fading, even without touching him. "Don't they have shrinks in the Navy?"

"Yeah, but it's not...it's not like you see on TV. It's 'Here's how to cope. Now go be a good soldier.'" 

"How do they tell you to cope?" 

Steve shrugged. "By telling yourself 'It was duty. You were doing your job. You had no choice.'" 

"That's not coping, Steve. That's suppressing. That never works long term."

Yeah, Steve was figuring that out on his own, thanks. He just didn't know how to fix it. "How do you let the pressure out of the Hoover Dam without breaking it?" he asked, sparing Danny another glance.

Danny was looking at him speculatively. "One sentence at a time." 

Easier said than done. He didn't even know where to start. With Afghanistan? North Korea? A bunch of other missions that left him screaming silently in his head in his bunk for weeks after? 

Or with how he wanted Danny? With all the things he'd thought when he was sure he was going to die in Afghanistan, and all the things he should've said over the past few months, and how he never wants Danny to leave not just because he chases away the nightmares, but also because he's Danny. And Steve wants him at his side, wants his smell and his warmth, the way the air just feels different around him, like he had so much pent up energy inside him that the molecules surrounding him pick it up. 

Danny's phone rang before Steve could even sort out his thoughts on where to start. It was Grace, Steve could tell by the smile that lit Danny's face as he raised the phone to his ear. 

Steve listened to Danny chatting with Grace and let the sound soothe his nerves. He could worry about where to start his confessions later.

***

"How's your half-ganger going?" Danny asked.

After correcting him that it was a half-gainer, Grace launched into a detailed description he'd heard at least four times. But after the day he'd had, he didn't care that this was his third call with Grace or his second time through the explanation of a half-gainer. He just let her words wash over him.

When she was done, Danny reluctantly got off the call, still smiling at Grace's ear-ringing 'Love you, Danno!' goodbye. The ache he'd had deep in the middle of his chest all day had eased over the course of their call. Rachel had let her talk a lot longer than usual, but then Danny suspected she'd seen the news. 

For all that he accused her otherwise, she did, in fact, actually have a heart. 

Danny put his phone on the table, frowning as he saw the TV. ESPN announcers were filling the long stretches of time between actual news on the NFL Draft with the same recycled commentary they'd been saying for months, but Steve was watching as if national security depended on their every word. 

They hadn't talked about Wo Fat's message. Or about Doris. Or about Steve's nightmares or what he'd been about to say that morning. Shit, was it really just that morning? It felt like a million years ago. 

Danny tried to suppress a yawn, but it came through anyway. He needed to make Steve talk before the next crisis interrupted them. But Steve's issues could be extremely exhausting, and Danny wasn't sure which one to start with. 

He'd just close his eyes and think about it for a minute.

***

_He had to find Grace. Fucking Rick and his fucking insanity, thinking that Danny was somehow to blame for the fact that Rick had been dirty. Daring to punish Danny's little girl for Rick's sins. He wanted to shoot Rick right in the face until his gun was empty._

_But he couldn't. Because he'd never find Grace unless Rick told him where she was. And the bastard knew it, too. He could see it on Rick's face the moment before he pushed against Danny, jamming Danny's gun into his chest, and pulling the trigger._

_As Rick fell to the ground, the last signs of life already fading from his eyes, Danny dropped to his knees beside him screaming, "Tell me where my daughter is you fucker!"_

"Danny."

Danny's eyes shot open, and he sat up, looking around. Instead of the bright beach and a dead body in his hands, he was in the dark living room at Steve's, only the TV and one low lamp providing any light. And Steve was beside him, frowning at him in concern.

"You okay?" Steve asked. 

Danny shuddered. "I'm all right," he said. "Just give me a minute."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Right. Because Steve was _so_ forthcoming about his own nightmares. But then...maybe Steve needed an example. He'd said he didn't know how to talk about it. Maybe he could only learn by seeing it in action. "It's Grover's daughter," Danny said, sagging back into the couch, and leaning into Steve's warmth. "A case like that always brings up what happened with Grace, you know?" 

Steve shifted, pressing closer into Danny, his hand landing on Danny's thigh. "Yeah, you always seem more...on edge. Understandably." 

"It's just...every time I feel that same terror I had when we were opening that storage locker. Not knowing if she was alive or dead, I was almost too terrified to go in there, except I had to get to her."

Steve's hand slid into Danny's, fingertips grazing his palm before their fingers laced together. "We found her, though."

"Yeah. We did." Danny could still remember her shaking in his arms. "I wouldn't leave her bed that first night, did I tell you?" He glanced at Steve, who shook his head. "I sat there all night long, nodding off only to jerk back awake to make sure she was still there."

"And she was. Still is."

"For months," Danny continued, "I felt sick with panic every morning until she called I and I knew she was okay. That nothing had happened to her, that my job hadn't come back to try to get her again." He looked at Steve again. "Still happens some mornings. It's rare now, but after days like today...."

"How do you deal with that so well?" Steve said, sounding both confused and a little in awe.

"Because I _deal_ with it," Danny replied, even though he'd gone through this before. Repetition was the only thing that would penetrate that iron-clad skull in Steve's head. "I don't shove it aside. I let the panic have free rein for a minute. Sometimes more. I wallow. I _talk_ about it." He took a deep breath. "And then I remind myself that she's fine. Better than she probably should be."

Danny knew that look on Steve's face--on his better days Danny called it his robot processor light. He could name every emotion that crossed his face after, too, until resolve finally settled in. "Hassan..." Steve said slowly, like taking his first tentative steps through a mine field. "When the team showed up, he...Hassan was recording." Steve swallowed hard. "It was my execution. I tried to escape," he said, "but I couldn't. And if the team had been just a few seconds later...." His hand had a death grip on Danny's. "It was that close, Danny." 

Danny wouldn't cry. He wanted to, but he wouldn't. Couldn't. It wouldn't help. So he blinked back the wetness in his eyes. "But you made it."

"Because of you."

"Catherine's the one who called me, she--"

"No. Not just because you brought in the cavalry, but you. You were what kept me going. I...there were things I wanted to tell you," Steve said, turning more of his body to face Danny, "and I fought back to try to get back here to tell you, and if I hadn't, if I'd just sat there like a good soldier and accepted my fate, it would've been over before the team got there."

Danny shrugged, trying to adopt a nonchalance he didn't really feel about that revelation. "You would've found something else to fight for if it hadn't been me, Steve. It's who you are. You don't have an ounce of quit in your DNA."

"I do," Steve said quietly. "I quit on you because I was too afraid. I couldn't risk it."

Danny didn't know how to argue with the truth. "To be fair, your life wasn't in danger."

"No, it was something a little more important than that." Steve had that resolved look Danny knew all too well, and Danny was suddenly very interested to know what the next words were going to be out of his mouth.

As if on cue, Steve's phone rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. "It's Catherine," he said apologetically.

"Go," Danny said, dislodging his hand and waving Steve out of the room.

"I'm sorry, I just need to make sure she's okay."

"I know." 

He waited until Steve was out of the room before he laid back on the couch and tried to smother himself with a throw pillow.

***

"Did you find him?" Steve asked as he stepped out onto the lanai.

There was a long pause. "No," Catherine said, finally. "He was gone again, but I got a new lead."

"I'm sorry." 

"Yeah, me, too. Every minute I don't find him, there's a chance it won't matter by the time I do."

He knew she was right, so he didn't try to argue. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"So what's going on there?" 

"Nothing."

"Good. I'm glad it's quiet."

She never pushed. Danny would've been able to tell from his tone that he was lying, but Catherine never pushed. "It's not," he said suddenly, the words tumbling out fast and low. "I lied. Wo Fat broke out of prison after my mother visited him. Ian Wright kidnapped Grover's daughter and Wo Fat killed Wright and wants to talk to me, and I don't know why. And Danny's downstairs waiting for me to tell him something I've needed to tell him for ages, and I don't even know how to start."

He sucked in a breath, already hating himself a little for dumping on her when she had enough problems. "Cath, I--"

"You might want to start with, 'Danny, I'm madly in love with you.'"

"Catherine."

"I'm not stupid, Steve." She didn't sound angry. Or even hurt. "I've known you long enough that I know your tone when you said 'I love you' to me, and I know how you look at him. I also know you're noble--and stupid--enough to wait until I get back to do it right. And I'm telling you now not to."

"Cath--"

"Steve. The fact that you made it back from here was a miracle, one perpetrated mostly by Danny. Don't waste it."

He closed his eyes, gripping the phone for a long moment before he looked out at the ocean. "I'm sorry."

"So am I. That I didn't kick your ass about this a while ago." Her tone was rueful. "I just didn't think you wanted to be in love with him."

"I didn't."

"But you are."

There was no point in denying it now. "Yeah."

"Then go tell him, idiot."

Right. If it was that easy, he'd have done it already. "You'll still check in with me?"

"Of course. I still love you."

He recognized the tone now, so much like his own when he'd talked to her that first night he'd been back. "Be careful."

"Always." He heard voices in the background. "Hey, I have to go. But I'll check in in a couple of days. Bye."

She was gone before he could return the goodbye. 

***

Danny heard the door, saw Steve walk back into the room, but he stared intently at the TV as if he'd be quizzed on the exact draft order they were recapping. He didn't glance at Steve as he sat back down on the couch, tantalizingly close. 

He wondered how many steps back they'd taken in the time Steve had been on the phone.

"How's Catherine?"

"Okay. The lead didn't pan out, but she has another one."

Of course. Off on her noble quest. Danny couldn't compete with that. Before he could find a comment, though, Steve turned off the TV. "Danny." 

Danny turned his head to see Steve looking at him carefully. The lamp gave off just enough light that Danny could see Steve's eyes. He recognized that look. That was the look he got when he was determined. More than determined. Crazy SEAL determined.

"Something wrong?"

"When Hassan had me on my knees, the camera rolling," Steve said, his voice stronger than it had been before he'd gone to answer the phone, "there were things I was afraid I wasn't going to get to tell you."

"You said that already," Danny said. "But you've been back for weeks."

Steve took a deep breath. "I know, and I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what was going on with you and Amber, and I didn't want to disrupt your happiness."

"There is no me and Amber anymore. I told you that three days ago."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...I was afraid."

"Am I that scary?"

Steve's laugh was harsh. "You're the scariest thing I've ever seen," he said. "And the best." 

His Steve-to-English dictionary was coming back online, but Danny needed to be sure what he was hearing. "What does that mean?"

"I thought it was just Catherine," Steve said. "Before, when we...stopped. I thought it was because I couldn't hurt her. But I realized it was...something else. I had a machete to my throat, Danny, and the only thing I could think, the thing that was stronger than death itself, that hurt more than knowing I was going to die, was that I hadn't tried. I hadn't told you."

Steve's hand landed on Danny's thigh, thumb moving across it absently. Danny didn't even think he knew he was doing it. "That was weeks ago," he reminded Steve again.

"I know. And today, that gun was at my neck, and all I could think was that I'd fucked up again and I still hadn't told you. I'm sorry, Danny. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, and I hope it's not too late."

He looked at Danny expectantly, and Danny stared at him for a moment before saying, as gently as he could when he wanted to call him a giant goof, "Steven...you still haven't told me what you haven't told me yet."

Steve blinked. "Oh! I, uh..." He swallowed hard, and Danny was wondering if he was going to have to say it for him. "I love you," he said. 

Which...the tone was there, but Danny still needed to be sure. "So you've said a few dozen times lately."

"No. Not like this." Steve wet his lips and took a deep breath. "I'm _in_ love with you."

And there it was. "Oh."

He felt Steve's grip tighten on his thigh. "Oh?" he said after a moment.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Seriously? I was the one who told you I couldn't share. What, exactly, did you think that meant, Steven?"

"That you're possessive?"

"Yeah, well, that, too, but only with things that I really care about. And only," Danny said, raising his hand to Steve's cheek, "with people I'm in love with."

Steve smiled as he leaned in, but he stopped short. "People?" he said, a small frown marring his forehead.

"The person," Danny clarified. "You."

"Oh." 

Steve's smile was brilliant for about half a second before he captured Danny's lips. "Upstairs," Steve said against Danny's mouth. "God, Danny, upstairs now or--"

"Stop talking," Danny said, pushing Steve away and to his feet, "and move." He jumped up, shoving Steve towards the stairs, following, unable to resist grabbing Steve's ass when they got to the landing at the top of the stairs.

Steve stopped so fast he almost knocked Danny back down the stairs. Danny had to grip Steve's hips to keep from falling, the grip sending a shudder through Steve's body. Steve turned, capturing Danny's lips again as he walked backwards, dragging Danny down to the bedroom. 

It wasn't until Steve fell onto the bed, as Danny stood over him, that he realized they'd never had sex in here. Only at Danny's house. Having sex here somehow made it seem real. 

Steve's eyes narrowed. "What's that smile for?"

"What? I can't be happy?"

"Well, it's not really in your nature..." 

"Shut up." 

"I'm just saying, Danny, I mean--"

Steve stopped abruptly as Danny pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the ground. "You were saying?"

Steve didn't finish his sentence, he just sat up and grabbed Danny's arm, yanking him down on the bed beside him. Steve threw a leg over both Danny's as he propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Danny like everything Steve had ever missed out on in life was wrapped up in Danny's body. 

"You're amazing," Steve said quietly, reverently. One hand trailed down Danny's chest, Steve's lips following suit, until he reached the scar on Danny's lower right side where the rebar had been lodged. Steve looked up the length of Danny's torso. "You have no idea how much I wanted to follow you home, make sure you were okay, never let you out of my sight that night."

"Yeah, I kinda do," Danny said. "I felt the same way after North Korea. And after Afghanistan." And a bunch of other times when Steve had been beaten and bruised--mentally as well as physically. 

"There's a simple solution for that," Steve said. "Don't leave. Stay."

Danny's heart flipped a little at the request, but he kept his tone light. "It's going to be kind of hard to do my job without leaving your house."

Steve rolled his eyes. "How about stay the weekend, then?" 

"That I could probably do." Steve's smile made Danny's heart flip again, so open and happy that Danny needed to kiss it right now, to feel that happiness radiate through his own body. He pulled Steve up until their lips met again.

By the time they were done kissing, Steve's shirt was gone, and Danny's pants were as far down as Steve could get them without getting off Danny's body. "Up," Danny muttered, pushing at Steve even as he refused to entirely let his mouth go.

Steve was nothing if not resourceful, though. He somehow managed to get Danny's pants and underpants off without entirely stopping the kissing. Danny was as grateful for that as he was confused as to when and where he'd lost his shoes and socks. But since it meant he was now completely naked against Steve, who'd also managed to lose the rest of his clothes, he decided not to complain.

In fact, he might never complain about Steve's Ninja skills ever again after this.

Danny had a few Ninja skills of his own, and he used them to get Steve onto his back so he could taste his way down Steve's body. He'd missed this, the way Steve tasted, his smell, those sounds he made when Danny nipped at his skin, the way Steve's grip on Danny's hair tightened almost to an uncomfortable level as Danny finally found his target and licked his way up the side of Steve's dick.

"Fuck!" Steve pushed up into Danny's mouth as soon as Danny's lips lowered around the head. "Fuck, Danny...just...wait." 

Steve pushed at Danny's shoulders, and Danny frowned down at him. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing, it's perfect I just...can I...I need to be inside you. Can I...please?"

Like he had to ask. "Anytime," Danny said, a little scared to realize he meant it. For all that he knew he was in love with the guy, he was still getting used to the fact that he would do just about anything Steve asked. Ever. 

He rolled onto his back and watched the stretch of Steve's muscles across his back as Steve leaned over to reach into the nightstand. He came back with lube and, thankfully, no condom. Once was enough for that conversation, and Danny still remembered what it was like having Steve inside him without it.

He shivered in memory, then shivered again when Steve's hand slid down Danny's abdomen to reach for his dick, sliding across the length of it before going lower still until his fingers found Danny's hole. 

The intense concentration on Steve's face as he opened Danny up was far hotter than it had any right to be. Almost as hot as the way Steve's face changed as his dick slid into Danny's body, concentration giving way to sheer bliss. 

Danny understood that face. It echoed everything in his body as Steve started thrusting, his hands gripping Danny's thighs where they rested on Steve's chest. Danny was sure nothing could ever be this good, that slide of skin against skin, inside and out, but then Steve let go of one of Danny's thighs to wrap that huge, strong hand around Danny's dick, and hey, look at that, he'd been wrong. This was even better.

So much better that he lost coherent thought, drifting in a haze of pleasure. He knew there were words coming out of his mouth, but he had no idea what they were, only that Steve apparently translated them into what Danny needed--more, harder, right fucking now.

He felt Steve's rhythm change, felt Steve jerk his hips in hard one last time and heard a cry a second before Steve's grip tightened just right on Danny's dick and he fell over the edge. 

When he came to, he was covered in a hot, sweaty Steve blanket, one that he wanted to wrap himself in for the rest of the night. 

Except that might get a little gross by morning. 

"Ungh," Danny said, though he'd been trying for 'up.' He pushed halfheartedly at Steve, who just shifted one leg and buried his face even harder against Danny's neck.

Screw it. They could shower in the morning.

***

Steve drifted slowly out of darkness into consciousness, resenting the intrusion of reality on his nice little dream. He'd been dreaming that he and Danny were together, and they'd had amazing sex and...

He sniffed. Danny. Definitely Danny. Steve stretched, feeling Danny's skin against his own. He opened his eyes to confirm, and yeah, hey, that was Danny, sleeping comfortably next to him, his face gorgeous in the bright sunlight. 

Wait...bright sunlight? 

Steve raised his head just enough to see the clock. It was almost eight. They'd slept for nine hours. He hadn't slept that long in a stretch without at least a nightmare since...well, he wasn't actually sure when. Even in the hospital they'd had to give him drugs every 4-5 hours to knock him out after the nightmares woke him. Not that he'd told them why he woke, but still. 

He wasn't stupid. He knew one night of sex with Danny didn't magically scare away the nightmares. But the fact that he'd had one night without the nightmares gave him hope. 

The fact that Danny was still there in his bed gave him even more.

The way Danny's face wrinkled up as he started to wake had always been adorable. Steve couldn't resist smiling at it as Danny's eyes blinked open. 

"Time izit?" Danny asked, stretching. 

"About eight," Steve said quietly. 

"Too early on a Saturday," Danny said, snuggling back into Steve's side. When Steve didn't immediately relax, Danny leaned back enough to open one eye and look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Steve said, shaking his head. For the first time in a while, everything's right." 

Danny's other eye opened. "Everything?"

"Well, okay," Steve amended, "Wo Fat's still out there and my mother is visiting him and ducking my calls, sure...you know what I mean."

"Yeah." Danny smiled. "Yeah I do." He leaned up for a kiss. "Tell me about your mom," he said softly. "I mean when you were a kid."

Steve winced. He'd just had a night without nightmares and Danny wanted him to talk about his mom. "Really?"

"That's how you get through this, babe. You talk to someone you trust, someone who cares enough to listen, and you remember the good and the bad." Danny put his hand against Steve's cheek. "The more you talk, the more you can deal with it. Trust me."

The one thing never in doubt was Steve's absolute trust in Danny. He gave Danny a smile and a kiss before putting his head back on the pillow beside him, pulling Danny close. 

"When I was seven," Steve said slowly, "Mom used to make these muffins every Sunday morning...."

\---  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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